


Talk to Me Felicity

by ClosingtheValves



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, canondivergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10091504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClosingtheValves/pseuds/ClosingtheValves
Summary: Oliver's worry Felicity is not okay finally overpowers his worry that he is being too intrusive for an ex-fiancee.





	1. Mom

“Hey,” Oliver said walking onto the platform in the lair towards Felicity. She hummed at him from her seat. He put his hand on the back of her chair. He told himself that it was a complete coincidence that his fingers grazed her back. Sensing the shift in her chair, Felicity looked at Oliver. “It’s 3:00 o’clock in the morning.”

Felicity looked at the time in the corner of her computer screen and hummed. His view of her face was a bit obscured but he noticed a glazed look in her eyes. It was silent for a few minutes as Felicity continued to stare at the same spot in the corner of her screen. Inquiries about whether she was okay or not layed on the tip of his tongue. He chained them there behind his teeth. Just as he was about to let it slip, she shook her head repeatedly as if clearing her mind. She got up and walked disorientedly towards her coat which she had thrown on the table when she walked in earlier in the evening. She banged her hip on one of the railing as she walked down the platform and hissed. His fingers itched to massage the pain away. 

“Are you okay driving home?” he couldn’t resist asking. She seemed lost. She dismissed him with a flimsy hand gesture over her shoulder. She didn’t look back as she walked out and didn’t bother to say bye. He starts rubbing his thumb between his index and middle finger involuntarily.  
Felicity had been acting strange since he asked for her help with Susan. Soon after the event he had wished he could suck the words back up. He didn’t know what he was thinking and the shocked look in her eyes made him know this was something he would add on his list of mistakes. He had felt dirty for the rest of the day. He tried to warrant his behavior, telling himself that he and Felicity were friends above all else and friends helped each other but that understatement made his stomach twist unpleasantly. To be honest, he didn’t know how to be a man Felicity didn’t love or a man who couldn’t show Felicity his love. Clearly she struggled with that too. He still cringed when he remembered her suggesting a double date. Everyday he was trying to figure out their dynamic. That day clearly wasn’t his most successful. Felicity was graceful, albeit a bit awkward, through the whole process. They never faulted each other for missteps while trying to figure out their new relationship but he was acutely aware he had crossed a line. She seemed fine in the days after the event but now something was off.

In order to not seem like a suffocating ex, Oliver made himself seem indifferent but every time he saw her a nauseating worry filled his gut. She looked normal. Her makeup was still bright and her clothes fit her as lovely as ever but she moved mechanically. She still provided her usual quips. She joined in on conversation just enough to fly under the radar. In essence, she was acting like she usually did, but Oliver could sense something was off. It was as if she was doing everything she was supposed to but she wasn’t there. He noticed Dig would occasionally look at her probingly but just as he did she would make a quick joke. 

He was in his car and on the way to the penthouse they once shared before he even knew he was doing it. He told himself it was necessary. They had a lot of enemies. What if she was being threatened? He was just being vigilant. That is how he found himself standing on the fire escape outside her windows. He hid himself in the shadows while allowing himself a good view of her ambling about their kitchen-her kitchen. He needed to tell her to get blinds. 

Her window was cracked open and he could faintly hear her movements. She was dragging her feet in fuzzy slippers and held a large blanket over her shoulders. Her makeup was off and he almost gasped at the look on her face. Her eyes were sunken in and her hair wasn’t catching the light. Her skin was practically translucent and he could see the veins on her eyelids. Oliver’s eyes darted over the living room. It was immaculate. Everything was in a perfect position. It looked devoid of life. 

He noticed Felicity grab a pint of mint chip out of the freezer and a plastic spoon. He smiled at the memories that conjured. She sat on the sofa and opened the ice cream. She looked at it intensely and put a spoonful in her mouth. He expected a delighted moan to slip from her mouth like it usually did but instead she swished it around in her mouth, her eyes looking towards the window distantly. His breathe caught as he sank deeper into the shadows despite knowing there was no way she would possibly see him. Felicity looked at her ice cream, grimacing before capping it and putting it on the coffee table. She stared at the window for a long time, burrowing herself deeper into her blanket. Why wasn’t she sleeping?

She reaches for her iPad. He can hear ringing. 

“Hello?” a sleepy raspy voice asked.Felicity leaned into the cushions on the couch.

“Mom?” Felicity asked, and Oliver felt his heart clench at the vulnerability in her voice.

“Hi baby. Are you okay?” Donna asked, sounding much more awake. Felicity bit her lip, he could see tears welling in her eyes. What was wrong with his girl?

“Yeah,” she said in a small voice, but her words crack a little. She’s biting her lip hard now. A single tear slips down her cheek. It is silent.

“No,” she says, her voice thick with unshed tears. Oliver stepped forward before remembering he was supposed to be hidden. 

“Oh honey. You can’t sleep again?” Felicity is openly crying now, holding the blanket tighter to her body. Every sob that escapes her lips pierces Oliver’s soul. 

“Mom.” she cries and chokes out some more sobs. Oliver is starting to really worry. The sobs sound like they a ripping from her chest. She is hacking and heaving and clutching desperately at the blanket around her. She is crying hysterically.

“Felicity? Felicity baby? Do you have someone you can call that can stay with you tonight?” he can hear the fear laced in Donna’s voice. Felicity is rocking back and forth, her knuckles white from gripping the blanket too tight. 

“No. Nobody,” she sobs loudly and a iron hot guilt fills Oliver from the pit of his stomach to his fists which are now clenched tightly. His throat feels tight.

“Felicity? There has to be someone baby,” Donna says. Felicity is rocking more rigorously.

“Billy is dead.” Felicity sobs. He can hear a soft sob from Donna’s side of the line.

“Oh honey I know. I know,” Donna croons. Felicity sobs.

“Mom I did a bad thing. I joined a bad group,” Felicity whimpers. Oliver’s ears perk up. What group is she talking about? Was she talking about Team Arrow? He thought Felicity loved it in the cave.

“What group?” 

Felicity continues to sob. Suddenly she’s up on her feet and pacing the floor.

“I had to tell you,” with an eerily calm voice.

“Felicity? Baby you’re scaring me.”

“I need you to check up on Oliver whenever you can,” Felicity says. Oliver shivers at her tone and the resolution in her eyes. He feels dread wrapping its fingers around the base of his spine.

“Felicity call Lance right now!” Donna orders. Felicity closes her eyes tightly, her sobs had subsided. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“I need you to promise me you’ll be there for him.”

“Felicity-”

“Promise me!”

“Okay. Felicity call Oliver. Ask him to stay the night. Please baby. I’m scared,” Donna says. It is silent for a long time. 

“I love you Mom,” Felicity says. He hears the sound of Donna beginning to protest but the Felicity hangs up. She sinks to the floor, blanket falling limply to the ground. She digs the heels of her palms into her eyes as her body begins convulsing with sobs again.

He can’t stop himself from breaking in anymore.


	2. You Won't See Me Cry

He feels like every step he takes towards her hurts more than the last but he was deeply acquainted with bloody, knife-twisting, blinding pain so he soldiered on. Oliver is already kneeling before her when she notices him. He reaches out slowly as to not startle her. When she catches a glimpse at the hand she jumps back, placing a hand on her chest. A soft gasp fell from her lips. She recognizes him soon after, hand falling to her side. Oliver looks at her fiercely, eyes darting around her face. She had neglected to wipe off all of her mascara so their were soft black smudges around her eyes making them look even more tired. Her cheeks were bright red. His eyes passed over her nose which was slightly dripping. Self-consciously, she runs her palm over it.

“What-” her voice comes out strained and scratchy. She clears her throat, running her fingertips over her cheeks to collect residual tears. “What are you doing here?”  
Before he can say anything, she pulls away. It wasn’t until the cold tickled his skin that he realizes he was holding her hand. She gets up, blanket collecting at her feet. She assertively grabs the mint chocolate chip behind him and walks away to put it in the freezer. He stays kneeling on the floor, looking directly at her even though her back was turned to him. Finally she turns towards him. She crosses her arms over her chest. Her lips were in a thin line, her shoulders tense. Her eyes are irritated around the rims, blood vessels stretching towards her icy blue irises. 

“So?” she says venomously and he would have taken it seriously if her makeup didn’t look as smudged and her bun was a little neater than it was now.

“Talk to me Felicity,” he says softly, avoiding the question. She scoffs, tightening her hands around her biceps. She glares at him and he just stares right back.

“Is this what we are doing now? You’re just gonna show up here in the middle of the night. I need privacy Oliver. I need space,” she hisses. 

“I’ve given you space.”

“I’m with you every night.”

“Your life. Your choice,” Oliver says. She gasps quickly before narrowing her eyes at him.

“You’re right. Get out,” she says. Oliver gets up and walks towards her. She takes a few steps back until the fridge hits her back. Oliver still continues to enter her space until she places a hand on his chest to stop him. He looks down at her intensely, determinedly. 

“Why were you crying?” he asks, voice low and deep. She rolls her eyes.

“Why do you care?” she asks. He tilts his head at her indicating that she would need to try harder than that. She sighs, placing a hand on the top of her head. His chest is poking out and he is breathing heavily through his nose. He determined and vulnerable, with shoulders locked and soft eyes. 

“You should leave,” she says, walking around him and back towards her living room

“Felicity,” he says breathily. She feels the tears well in her eyes again. She bites her lip hard to stop them from coming but a few spillover. She whimpers, a thick ball of tight heat lodged in her throat. She tries to steady her breathing but the stinging in her eyes was beginning to feel unbearable. And then she feels his arms surrounding her. His hard body was warm and pressed into her back tightly. She feels his nose poking into the back of her hair. His breath was causing her baby hairs to tickle her neck. She doesn’t push him away.

“Please,” he says, voice trembling slightly and she feels the thin thread she was using to hold herself together snap. Her mouth opens and she lets out a painful sob. She sinks in his arm and he holds her. She can’t even hear herself crying; there is white noise filling her head. But she can feel herself shaking. Oliver turns her around and she burrows her head in his neck, feeling the water and snot collecting between their skin which is tightly pressed together. He wraps his arms around her tighter, pulling her deeper into his firm chest. They stay like that for a couple minutes until he shifts his hands, moving them to her neck so that she can look up at him. She tries to calm down her crying and she manages to make it so that only a few tears are falling down. Oliver is looking at her; his eyes are irritated too.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks softly, thumb brushing back and forth over her cheek. She tries to go over everything in her head but her tongue feels heavy. 

“I can’t- I can’t sleep,” she finally whimpers out and the her eyes start begin to overflow. “Oh God. I'm so tired. I haven’t slept,” she blubbers. Oliver's eyes widen and he holds her face in his hands, desperately wiping away her tears with her thumbs.

“Hey. Hey. Breathe. Look at me,” he says softly. It takes a few minutes to get the tears to stop and even longer to get her vision to clear. He just looks at her patiently. “There we go. It’s okay. Let’s go to bed.”

Felicity’s eyes widen and she starts shaking her head. “I can’t. I can’t slee-”

“Hey. I’m right here,” he says softly, his warm hands still surrounding her cheeks. “I’ll stay with you.”

She bites her lip. Reality was in the back of her head, nagging her. This wasn’t a good idea. They weren’t in a relationship. He was with someone. He was with someone and that hurt. She was still angry at him for what he did. He hurt her. He has hurt her a lot. 

“Felicity,” he says softly. He was pleading with his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles into her cheeks. 

“Can we stay on the sofa?” she asks and her voice sounds so vulnerable and childish that she is silently chastising herself. He nods enthusiastically. Reluctantly, she pulls away going into the living room and picking up the discarded blanket off the floor. He is already on the sofa when she turns around. She feels the weight in each step as she walks towards him. She sits down next to him, blanket wrapped protectively around her. They sit there awkwardly for a few seconds.

“Lay down,” he whispers. She’s sad and angry but she still feels a spark down below at the command. Her head snaps towards him and his eyes look dark but it must be the lighting or her imagination because soon he shifts and they are back to their original hue. She gulps and nods at him, laying down with her legs facing him. She puts herself in fetal position and wraps the blanket around her tighter. She feels a weight on her hip. His hand is laying there, rubbing it soothingly. She feels warm but is also very anxious. She doesn’t know if him being there will help her any. 

“Are you going to sleep too?”

“Yeah, soon,” he says, looking down at her. He’s lying. She knows it but all she can feel is the hypnotizing motion of his large hand on her hip. She closes her eyes thinking there’d be no way she’d fall asleep that fast. It’s been taking her up to hours to manage to take a thirty minute nap recently. She’s snoring within half an hour. 

Oliver stills his hand on her hip. She looks so small wrapped in the large blanket. How could he be so blind to her pain? He feels guilt gnawing at his insides. All that he keeps telling himself in his mind is: You asked her for relationship help. You asked her for relationship help. She probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep for weeks and you asked her for relationship help. He runs a hand through the scruff on his cheek absentmindedly. He wishes he knew what was wrong with her. Why hasn’t he asked her about her strange behavior earlier? Each question tugs at his heart a little more. She was wrapped up in something bad if her conversation was her mother was any indication. She feared for her life. Oliver looked down and noticed his fists were clenched on top of his knees. He needed to know more about what was going on but she was sleeping peacefully right now. She needed this. 

Suddenly there is a harsh banging on her door. Oliver’s eyes snapped towards her. She is out cold. The banging continues. Oliver looks at the clock. It's 4:30 in the morning. Who would be at her house at this time, banging so harshly. Oliver did a quick scan of the room looking at all the possible weapons. Felicity shifts next to him and whimpers. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a knife before walking towards the door. 

He yanks it open, prepared to face the intruder outside.


	3. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I know this is like a month later than expected but its hard to keep a 4.0 average in college and still have time to write (or a social life for that matter). Thanks for your patience and I hope you like it. I only plan on one more chapter after this. Enjoy!

Oliver hides the knife behind the door before he opens it. The person at the door is mid knock and steps back at the ferocity in Oliver’s eyes.

“Queen?”

“Quentin?” Oliver asks, eyebrow arched. Quentin looks at him skeptically.

“What in God’s name are you doing here at 4 am in the morning?” Quentin asks. Oliver tilts his head at him as if to ask him the same thing. 

“Her mother called me ten times. Why are you here?” Quentin asks again. 

“Her mom called me too,” Oliver lies. Quentin squints his eyes at him.

“Donna told me she couldn’t get into contact with anyone else,” Quentin says. 

“Well she got into contact with me,” Oliver says, opening the door wider so that Quentin could enter, “Stay quiet, she’s sleeping on the couch.”

Oliver puts the knife back in the knife holder and turns back to Quentin who is looking affectionately at Felicity. Quentin looks up at Oliver and gestures to the guest room upstairs. They tiptoe up the creaking steps and close the door behind them.

“Any idea what’s wrong?” Quentin asks. Oliver looks at him, sucking his lips in his mouth pensively.

“She hasn’t slept well. I don’t know for how long. Probably since losing Billy,” Oliver says. 

“And probably because of everything that happened with Havenrock. Girl’s got a heart of gold; she probably still shoulders some of the guilt,” Quentin says.

“I know a little something about that,.” Oliver says, shaking his head at the fact that he could even casually forget something that big.

“Donna was talking about her getting in with the wrong crowd. Know anything about that?” Quentin asked. Oliver shakes his head.

“Think she was talking about Pandora?” Quentin asks. 

“Pandora?” Oliver asks, with one eyebrow arched.

“Yeah that hacker activist group she joined or whatever it is,” Quentin says dismissively until he notices the confused look on Oliver’s face. “You didn’t know about it?”

“You mean the group she was in in college?” Oliver asks.

“No. Well I don’t know. But she joined it recently.”

“How recently?” Oliver asked.

“You guys really don’t talk anymore huh,” Quentin says. Oliver glares at him.

“Quentin-”

“She joined officially like a week ago, I think. Can’t imagine it would take that short amount of time for her to get in their bad books,” Quentin says. 

“Who else knew?” Oliver asks. 

“Diggle, Thea, Curtis maybe,” Quentin lists. Oliver bristles.

“And none of you thought to tell me,” Oliver bites. Quentin rolls his eyes.

“Get off your high horse Queen. Maybe she didn’t want you to know. You’d know about those kind of secrets wouldn’t you?” Quentin says. Oliver has to take two steps back at the truth of the words. He runs a hand over his face. “You can leave. I’ll stay with her until she wakes up. I’m sure you are cutting into your time with your girlfriend.”

Quentin says nothing out of spite but Oliver feels like he’s swallowing poison. Did everybody think he would walk away from Felicity when she was in so much pain? She’s been suffering for a while now and he has been blind to the extent of it but being blind doesn’t mean he didn’t care. The minute he realized he needed to intervene, he did. Surely they understood that he would give almost everything up to ensure that Felicity was happy. It was what he wanted most. They had to understand that. It had to be printed on him in fiery red letters. It had to be evident the moment people saw them interacting. It was evident. Right? He shook his head, unclenching the fists at his side. 

“I’m not leaving Quentin. I don’t plan on ever leaving,” Oliver says, in case it wasn’t clear. Quentin stares at him for a while before nodding. Distantly Oliver hears a rustle downstairs. Him and Quentin look at each other and then back towards the door. They hear another rustle.

Oliver is the first out the door, jogging down the stairs. He notices Felicity tossing and turning on the sofa, soft whimpers falling from her lips. There is a light layer of sweat on her and she is mumbling incoherently. Her hand moves up from under the blanket to push loose strands away from her forehead. Her back arches as she writhes around on the sofa. He kneels next to her slowly and reaches out for her arms. She struggles against him for a little.

“Felicity,” he says in an even tone. She whimpers in response, head thrashing to either side. “Felicity,” he repeats with a bit more force. Her eyes begin to flutter slightly. Slowly she stops struggling against him. He thinks she’ll sink back into a deep sleep but her eyes suddenly open wide. The whites of her eyes practically swallowing her irises. Her chest expands and deflates quickly. She blinks a couple times, looking around the room frantically before looking back at his face.

“You were having a bad dream,” he says softly, running his thumb over her arms. She shifts so she is in a sitting position, freeing herself from his grasp. She pulls a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles self-consciously.

“Didn’t think it would last long anyways,” she says as a joke, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She looks down at her lap. Oliver reaches for her chin lightly so she can look him in the eyes again. She resists.

“Hey,” Oliver says, shifting so he can get in her line of vision. She finally looks at him. “Do you want to try to go to bed again?” he asks. She shakes her head. In doing so, her sight finally lands on Lance. She shoots up from the sofa, pushing imaginary strands behind her ears. Oliver stood, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Lance. Hi. What are you doing here?” Felicity says in one breathe. Quentin smiles encouragingly at her.

“Donna.”

“Ah,” Felicity says, chuckling, a little softer than usual. “She shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m okay.”

Quentin looks at her with a raised eyebrow, then to Oliver and back to her.

“Really, I am,” Felicity says, even less convincingly. When he still looks skeptical, she just sighs in defeat. “Would you like something to eat? I don’t have much,” she says, walking to her kitchen and looking through her fridge. “Some leftover take out, although it looks kind of skeptical and actually I don’t even remember buying it so probably not a good-”

Quentin grabs her hand and ushers her out the fridge. He takes a peek in the fridge and shifts things around.

“Looks like you have all the ingredients for my famous hot chocolate. Used to help Laurel calm down and go to bed all the time,” Quentin says with a gentle smile. Felicity smiles weakly and nods. 

“That sounds really good Quentin,” she says genuinely. He smiles brightly at her, placing his hand on her shoulder for a few seconds before turning around and placing a pot on the stove. As the stove heats up, Quentin moves three cups out of the cupboard.

“Actually Quentin, we’ll only need two cups. This is around the time Oliver goes for runs anyways,” Felicity says, finally shifting her gaze towards Oliver who is awkwardly standing off to the side watching the whole interaction. Oliver’s eyebrows crinkle questioningly.

“I can skip my run today,” Oliver says. Felicity looks at him uncomfortably.

“You should touch base with Susan. She’s probably worried you didn’t call last night,” Felicity says. Oliver is about to protest when he realizes that Susan probably was worried. He was supposed to spend the night at her place last night.

“I can just call,” Oliver says. Felicity sighs, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t need you anymore Oliver. You should leave,” she says adamantly. He can feel each word dig into him separately, pouring their poison until he was paralyzed. “Please,” she says, voice simmering with desperation. He nods automatically. 

“I’ll take good care of her,” Quentin says softly, and Oliver nods at him a couple times. 

“No, yeah, I should get going,” he says, looking at Felicity for awhile, waiting for her to ask him to stay.

“I’ll see you in the foundry,” she says and he hangs his head in defeat. He feels a lump forming painfully in his throat but he swallows it down. He looks back up and nods at her.  
“See you in the foundry,” he says, walking out the door quickly before gravity pulled him back.  
.......................................................................................................................................  
“Oliver. Oh my god! You look terrible,” Susan says, leading him into her apartment. He follows, hands stuffed into his front pockets.

“Didn't get much sleep last night,” he says offhandedly. She turns to him, arching one eyebrow. 

“Sorry I must have I must have misheard you because you just said that you couldn't sleep but that can't be because there's no way you'd bail on our plans and not even consider calling me,” Susan says, arms crossed. Oliver sighs.

“I'm really sorry about that. I never intended to make you feel like your role in my life is an insignificant one,” Oliver says apologetically. Susan tilts her head at him, messy curls falling over her shoulder.

“Is it?” she asks. Oliver shifts from one foot to another.

“When I started this relationship with you, I thought it was what I needed-”

“Well this isn't going to end well is it?” Susan says, taking a seat on her sofa.

“I'm so sorry. I'm still very much in love with Felicity Smoak. I don't think that's ever changing. She has always been my first priority and she is always in the back of my mind. I think you deserve someone who's going to make you their first priority,” Oliver says, and as the word dissipated in the air, he felt the weight of the half-dead relationship go with it. Susan smiled sadly at him, fiddling with her fingers.

“From what I've heard, she's remarkable,” Susan says kindly, albeit a little awkwardly. Oliver smirks at her choice of words.

“You are too,” Oliver says. Susan chuckles dryly, looking down at her lap. Oliver puts a hand under her chin so she'd look at him. “Really. I don't know how a man who's kicked out of 4 colleges has managed to surround himself with such successful, strong, intelligent women.”

“You’re not so bad yourself Oliver Queen,” she says, tearily. Oliver smiles at her genuinely. He lets go of her face. She wipes away a few errant tears.

“Can I ask you something though?” She says. He nods. “Why do you keep fighting for her?” Oliver contemplates the question, wondering how he can voice what he has with Felicity.

“She's…She's a part of me. She helped mold me into a man that I can look at in the mirror and not be ashamed of. Not a day goes by that I don't hear her voice in my head. Sometimes people come into your life when you’re half of a human, when everything is shrouded darkness and every step you take is an uncertain one. And they're so bright that they illuminate your path. And suddenly you realize that there was a dim light inside of you and that even if they were gone forever, you'd still be able to find your way,” Oliver trails off, finding himself absentmindedly scratching his scruff.

“Wow, I don't even understand why she’d let you go.”

“She didn't want to. Neither of us did. But I'm a…broken person to put it lightly and I solve my issues in confusing and hurtful ways,” Oliver says. 

“You shouldn't be so self deprecating,” Susan says softly reaching for his hand.

“I'm not trying to be. It's just the truth. But I'm getting better. Healthier. Partly because she, among other people, has taught me to want to do better for myself.”

“You're a good man Oliver. Take it from the reporter whose known her fair share of assholes...and from the women who has gotten to know you. I hope she deserves you,” Susan says. Oliver squeezes her hand before leaving the apartment feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.


End file.
